Claim Me

by Geneva Lee

  “I’ll consider it an order,” he said with a smirk.

  As soon as we were in the hall, I turned on Norris. “This better be good. I was in the middle of putting Pepper Lockwood in her place.”

  “About damn time someone did. Although it looked like Sarah was getting an earful, too,” Norris said. He heaved a heavy sigh. “But I’m afraid it couldn’t wait.”

  “What couldn’t wait—on the night my sister came home after ten years?” Riots had better be involved. Violence, at the very least.

  “Parliament met for a special session,” Norris said. I felt the world tilt on its axis at his next words. “They’ve overruled your decision regarding Oliver Jacobson.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked even as a flash of a bloody wedding flooded through my mind. Wish granted. Violence was involved.

  “Alexander,” he placed a hand on my shoulder as if it might provide comfort for what I was about to learn next, “they’ve released him.”

  Chapter 13

  Clara

  “I can’t believe Pepper was there.” Belle grimaced and took a sip of her sparkling water, wrinkling her nose. “Just thinking about it makes me wish this was alcohol.”

  Edward surprised us with an afternoon private viewing at Tamara’s. I’d been hesitant at first, until he’d told me that the designer had created an entire maternity line inspired by me. She’d been a go-to choice for most of my wardrobe since I’d started dating Alexander, and I more than appreciated the gesture. It wasn’t the ego massage so much as the prospect of a day out with friends that made me say yes. I needed to do something normal—not an easy task considering who I’d married—and shopping would have to do.

  “Me too,” I said, my hand running circles over my belly. I was unnerved to put it mildly. Although I’d done my best to hide it last night, I needed to sort out my feelings with my friends now. “I’ve never wanted to steal Alexander’s wine glass so badly.”

  “Now, now. Neither of you are drinking.” Edward sipped his champagne while wagging his finger at us.

  “You should abstain in solidarity,” Belle pouted.

  “I wasn’t the one born with a uterus.” He seemed to sense he was on dangerous ground with that comment and shifted gears immediately. It was a good thing since I was considering pouring my non-alcoholic beverage over his head to force the issue. He raised his glass to me. “You should have seen Clara. She was the perfect queen.”

  “What does that mean?” I demanded. It probably wasn’t good form to take that as an insult given that Edward was Royal, but every example I’d ever been given of what constituted a perfect queen was usually coupled with how I fell short of it. Considering what it took, according to Alexander’s father and grandmother, I was reluctant to fall in line. I wasn’t interested in being obedient or demure. Edward squeezed my hand as if to say I was overreacting.

  “You stayed completely calm. It was spectacular,” he told Belle. “Pepper was trying to get a rise out of Clara and she didn’t so much as blink.”

  That I was proud of, actually. “If you only knew. I was screaming inside. Plus, if she continued with that story…”

  “Oh! What story?” Belle leaned forward, her pregnancy not yet making such things impossible, and I felt a little jealous. I would need both of them to help me out of the showroom’s squat chair.

  “Apparently”—Edward waggled an eyebrow mischievously— “she saw our lovebirds fornicating.”

  “Fornicating?” Belle repeated. “What are you? Eighty?”

  Edward pushed his glasses up. “It’s how well-bred people say she caught them shagging.”

  “Thanks for the translation.” Belle’s eyes were bright with excitement at this news. “I guess you two made up. I mean, if Pepper is catching you in the act.”

  “A long time ago!” I couldn’t keep from laughing. If Pepper had caught us in the act yesterday, I couldn’t imagine what she would think. Then again, I had Pepper to thank for snapping a photo of my first kiss with Alexander. That picture had wound up in the tabloids. It was a good thing there was usually a safe distance between us.

  Belle’s mouth turned down in disappointment. “Then you two haven’t made up?”

  “I thought you were mad at him, too.” When I looked at her, I realized the joke was a mistake.

  “Yes,” she said, her lower lip quivering, “but the pregnancy is making me all moody. I just want everyone to be happy.”

  “Wait for it,” Edward muttered, and I gave him a questioning look.

  A moment later, I understood what he meant. Her eyes rounded, filling with tears and she began to dig in her purse frantically. “Bollocks! I don’t have any more tissue.”

  Edward produced a handkerchief from his suit jacket and handed it to her. “That’s because you keep going through them.”

  “A handkerchief? You are eighty,” she said between sobs.

  He pretended to snatch it back, but she held it away.

  “You try growing a human life inside you and see how easy it is.” She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. “I’m having a baby, remember?”

  “Don’t remind me,” Edward said sullenly, “or I’ll drown myself in champagne.”

  “Hey!”

  “No,” he said quickly, pulling off his glasses and wiping the lenses. “You aren’t the only ones preoccupied with how I can’t have a baby.”

  “David is still talking about it?”

  Edward’s husband had made no secret of how much he wanted a child of his own. Now that they were married, his interest seemed to have skyrocketed. He’d even volunteered to be an emergency nanny if we needed one.

  “More than ever. Now just doesn’t seem like a good time,” Edward admitted.

  “What? With all the Royal fuckupedness?” I guessed.

  Edward downed the rest of his champagne. “Between my sister coming home and this Anders business—it never seems to let up. There was enough drama surrounding our marriage. You know how it is. My children will be photographed every time they go into public. Every mistake they make will be put on the cover of a magazine. Combine that with half the country thinking gay marriage is immoral, and I don’t think I can do it. David doesn’t see it that way, though. How can he think it’s a good idea?”

  “It is not half the country,” Belle corrected him. “More like a third. The majority don’t care at all who you married. Most cared more about the actual wedding. Half were mad you didn’t have one to obsess over and the other half are glad they didn’t have to pay for it.”

  “I did save the monarchy a pound or two,” Edward said dryly.

  I was still stuck on the other things he’d said. I cradled my bump, recalling all the times Alexander had said he would never have children. Edward was right. There would always be scrutiny and people judging every move our family made. I hated that my child would have to deal with that. Part of me wanted to keep him right here where I could shield him from all of it.

  “Oh no,” Belle said, taking me from my thoughts, “you’ve got her thinking now.”

  “Christ. I’m sorry, Clara. I wasn’t thinking.”

  I waved off the apology. “It’s not anything I haven’t thought about before. Alexander felt the same way you do, and then Elizabeth came along. I don’t know if we’d have had children if…”

  In reality, I couldn’t imagine a world in which we didn’t have a family, even knowing what our kids would have to go through.

  “See? Alexander didn’t want kids and now look at him.” Clearly, Belle thought this should be the deciding factor.

  “He is a great father,” Edward admitted.

  “You sound too surprised.” I’d never doubted Alexander would be wonderful dad, because I knew his capacity for love.

  “Well, he’s a rubbish king.” Edward grinned.

  “Is not,” I cried.

  My friends shared a look. I’d fallen into their trap, and they knew they had me.

  “I told you they made up,” Edwar
d said.

  “Don’t start,” Belle warned.

  “You were upset when you thought we hadn’t,” I said in confusion.

  “She gets just as worked up when she’s happy,” Edward told me, taking another handkerchief from his pocket. “I stuffed the whole thing full of them this morning. Someone has to keep up with her waterworks.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Tamara asked.

  I struggled to hoist myself to my feet. In the end, Edward leaned over and pushed me. “Thanks,” I said dryly. “Chivalry is dead.”

  “Clara,” Tamara said, spreading her hands in welcome. “I have lovely things for you. You’re going to drive your husband crazy. Although it doesn’t look like you need help with that.”

  She touched my stomach lightly. I responded with a hug. “Your hair!”

  “Do you like it? My terrible sister told me I needed to look like a woman my age when I turned fifty.” She cupped neon pink locks that had once been platinum blonde.

  “I love it.” Not many women could pull it off, but she wasn’t like most women. “It suits you.”

  “Let me show you what I have.” Tamara pointed at Belle. “And for you. I heard Bless is expanding to maternity.”

  “I have to find some decent designers,” Belle teased. Her wardrobe rental company focused on high end fashion. Since she’d become pregnant, Belle had started adding maternity clothes to the line.

  “I can help you there,” Tamara promised. “I didn’t bring models in. I wanted you two to be the first to try these pieces.”

  “I can’t believe you went to the trouble,” I said as she crossed the room and rolled a rack of gorgeous pieces to us.

  “You two are the best publicity I could ever have. I should be thanking you.” She picked an emerald green dress from the rack and held it out to me.

  Edward coughed significantly. “I get no credit?”

  “He wants a finder’s fee,” I muttered to her, running my fingers over the dress’ silky fabric. How was it possible that it felt as good as it looked?

  “I’m sorry. Would you like a dress, Edward?” Tamara asked, completely deadpan.

  “Not that kinda queen, babe.” He poured himself another glass of champagne and continued to banter with Tamara as she picked out something for Belle to try.

  The dress felt like butter and I marveled at how something so elegant could be so comfortable. It was cut to accentuate all the best curves pregnancy had given me. Rather than dipping at the bust, it rose to hug my neck. Slipping my nude heels back on, I strolled out to show them.

  Edward stopped mid-sentence when he saw me.

  “Well?” I asked, spinning around.

  “Long live the Queen,” he called, adding a low whistle. “How do you make that look so sexy?”

  “The model helps,” Tamara informed him. She bustled over and checked the fit, smiling with satisfaction. “I knew this color would suit you. How do you feel about the collar?”

  My fingers drifted up to it, a funny sensation washing through me at mention of the term, but I nodded. “Every dress I own makes it look like I’m a bar wench. I like it.”

  “Don’t worry,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I have a few that will put the ladies on display for Alexander.”

  Belle joined us a moment later wearing a pair of white, wide-legged pants that rose high to sit over her tiny baby bump and a black shirt.

  “I look pregnant,” she announced, “and I love it!”

  The outfit did an amazing job of accentuating her pregnancy while still being sophisticated. It was the perfect fit for a powerful female entrepreneur.

  “I want a pair of those, too,” I said, eyeing them. “Unless I’m too…” I ran a hand over my much larger bump.

  “No, it’s genius.” Belle trotted over and showed me how the high waist, which looked tailored into a perfect waist, actually expanded where the fabric gathered. “And she has these nifty buttons that keep the shirt in place. Tamara, you are a genius!”

  “I definitely deserve a finder’s fee,” Edward grumbled good-naturedly.

  “I’ll make you some silk pajamas,” Tamara promised, pushing another choice into my arms.

  By the time I said goodbye, Belle and Tamara were discussing how many pieces she could have produced for the website and arguing over colors, since Tamara had insisted our pieces be unique. I kissed everyone and headed to the door, feeling lighter than I had in ages.

  “Is all that coming with us?” Georgia asked as an assistant carried a stack of bags and boxes behind us. “I should have brought a second car.”

  “You could have stayed,” I told her. Norris had always sat out on shopping dates, but Georgia might have been interested. I’d rarely seen her wearing anything other than black, but on the occasions when she’d been dressed up, I knew she had style. She’d probably get along with Tamara, too.

  “Not really my thing,” Georgia said, waiting for me to get into the car. I hesitated before choosing the front passenger seat. Surprise flashed over her dark features for a second, but she didn’t say anything. I usually rode in the back, but I had something I wanted to speak with her about. I’d been thinking about it since Tamara had mentioned the word collar.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” I said with a little hesitation when she started the engine.

  “Sure.” As usual, Georgia maintained a disinterested air. But she’d butted into my business enough times for me to know she wasn’t as detached as she let on.

  Over the years, I hadn’t been very welcoming to her input, not since she’d revealed to me the nature of her prior relationship to Alexander. I’d been jealous, but not because she was an ex-girlfriend. She and Alexander had never been romantically involved. I envied what they’d shared—a place he’d been unwilling to take me. We’d dabbled. We’d played around before. Nothing had ever gone as far as yesterday. I had the sore spot to prove it. Now I had questions and I wasn’t sure who to ask.

  “The anticipation is killing me,” she said dryly, maneuvering a turn.

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?” I blurted out. There wasn’t enough time between now and our arrival to discuss this and I didn’t want anyone overhearing. Georgia had always been discreet. I knew she would keep my confidence.

  “Is that what you wanted to ask me? On a date? You’re not my type.”

  “Never mind.” It was a stupid idea.

  “You could just order me to take you somewhere,” she said. “If you don’t want to go home, just tell me where to go.”

  “That’s not it.” I shook my head, trying to find the courage to ask her about submission. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Really? I thought that was an excuse?”

  “If you don’t want to…”

  “Your wish is my command,” she muttered. Her eyes searched the street until they landed on an open parking spot. “I guess this will do.”

  She parked the car and swiveled in her seat. “Hit me.”

  “Do you want to get coffee or something?” I asked, looking around for a café.

  “Let’s cut to the chase. We’re busy women, and I’m guessing whatever you want to ask me is something you want to stay private.”

  She made a good point. I took a deep breath and called on my courage. It was easier to find than I thought it would be. Maybe because I’d already faced what really scared me. “You said something once about talking girl to girl.”

  I wanted her to fill in the blanks and remember that conversation. I wasn’t quite ready to come out yet.

  “You want to have girl talk with me?” she asked blankly.

  I told myself to get over it and own it. “I need to know about submission.”

  Georgia leaned against the car door, a wicked smile curving across her face. “I knew you had it in you.”

  “Why?” I asked desperately. That was where I needed to start. She had known before I had. She’d made comments since we first met. Alexander had been drawn to me. He’d brought up submiss
ion and backed down when I’d balked at the suggestion.

  “You want to know if there’s something wrong with you?”

  I nodded. I didn’t know enough about true Domination to understand exactly what I was getting into or why. I suddenly found the idea easy to swallow.

  “Not all of us are fucked up. Just some of us, like me.”

  “I’m not saying you are,” I said in a rush, worried I had offended her. “I never thought of myself as wanting something like that.”

  She gave me a hard look. “Let me ask you a question. Did you ever really stop to consider that? I mean, most people don’t. Most people are introduced to submission by someone. Or they seek it out. I think you did a little of both. You’ve always known what Alexander was. I don’t think he hid it as well as either of you pretended.”

  There was a dark edge to her words and I wondered, not for the first time, how Georgia had discovered this about herself. Everything about Georgia was domineering. She was cold and calculating and deadly beautiful, but she had made no secret of her own submissive tendencies. Her personality seemed at odds with that side of her. Still, she wasn’t ashamed of it.

  “I guess not,” I admitted. “When he first brought it up to me, I couldn’t imagine letting him have that power over me.”

  “And now you can.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “I take it that you no longer have to imagine.” Her eyes skimmed over me like she was looking for proof.

  I crossed my ankles, keenly aware that a knowing eye might spot the slight rope burn on them. My cheeks heated at the reminder of red bindings and stinging skin.

  “Good for you,” she said, and I was surprised by her sincerity. “It’s going to help.”

  “Help what?” It had certainly helped my horniness, but I didn’t think that was the point.

  “Your communication. He’s always trying to control you and you’re always trying to prove something. You two never talk.”

  “We weren’t exactly talking yesterday,” I said dryly. I’d heard this lecture from pretty much everyone in our lives, but she seemed to think we’d found the solution.